


Shinobi skills.

by tucuxi



Series: Through the looking-glass: Naruto genderswap!AU [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Gen, Genderbending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-21
Updated: 2011-01-21
Packaged: 2017-10-16 21:02:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/169319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tucuxi/pseuds/tucuxi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>The Third Great Shinobi War has been going on for as long as Kakashi can remember.  When she graduated to chuunin, she expected to finally be able to help fight.</i></p><p>Part of the <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/series/6842">Through the looking-glass</a> genderswap AU universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shinobi skills.

**Author's Note:**

> girl!Kakashi AU. In response to [this prompt for thoughtful genderbending](http://community.livejournal.com/kakairu_kink/704.html?thread=391104#t391104) at the kink meme. Spoilers for Kakashi Gaiden.

Hatake Kakashi graduates from the Academy at five, and makes chuunin at six, handily defeating an opponent more than twice her age in the final stage of the chuunin exam. They have to get a vest specially made, because none of the ones in stores are small enough to fit her. When it shows up, it doesn’t look anything like the vest her father wears: it doesn’t even have a proper six scroll-pockets across the front. If she knew how to sew, she would fix it. Instead, Kakashi trains hard, does extra strength-building exercises on top of the taijutsu training her sensei set for her, on top of the exercises she and her father work on every evening, and waits to grow out of it (she does, soon enough) and into the smallest size from inventory.

She’s a genius, everyone agrees: her father must be very proud. It’s a pity she’s an only child, someone says once, can you imagine what her brothers might have been be capable of? After that, curious eyes follow her all the more. She ignores them, and follows her father, when he’s home from his missions. He is the strongest shinobi in the village, Kakashi knows, even better than the legendary sannin, and there are three of them. Her highest ambition is to move as smoothly as he does, to be as good a shinobi as he is, someday.

* * *

The Third Great Shinobi War has been going on for as long as Kakashi can remember. When she graduated to chuunin, she expected to finally be able to help fight. Instead, she chafes at the missions she is sent on: more D-rank missions with genin teams and their jounin-senseis. She has never liked being coddled, and when she’s handed the eleventh such mission, she looks at it carefully, reading through all the specifications as she always does. It’s the same as the other ten she’s done: routine, simple work close to the village, designed to teach genin about teamwork and keep them safe from the war raging outside. There is no particular reason to send her along with Team Four, even if she’s worked with them before.

“They don’t need me.” Kakashi states, staring the Sandaime in the eye. “My presence on this mission would be a waste of manpower. What else is there?” Her voice is high and clear in the room. She hears whispering behind her, the handful of other chuunin and one or two jounin clearly surprised.

“Kakashi-chan,” he says, and she feels her hackles go up, “I understand your impatience, but the war is no place for -“

She interrupts him. “I am a chuunin, Hokage-sama, not a child.”

He smiles, and looks sad at the same time.

“You really are your parents’ daughter, aren’t you?” he says, but he doesn’t seem to expect a response, eyes focusing over her head, as if she is trailed by a ghost.

She goes on the D-rank mission, but after that she gets assigned to a four-man reconnaissance squad, one that does more back-up than combat, more support than infiltration. They want her to replace their medi-nin, so Kakashi reads medical manuals and jutsu books in what little time she has, and heals her teammates’ few wounds clumsily, and then more competently. She picks up healing as quickly as she picks up anything else.

After the first couple of missions behind enemy lines, she even gets her teammates to stop trying to protect her all the time: she’s better at stealth than either of the other chuunin, and picks up jutsu just as fast. They treat her a little like a mascot, but they don’t pat her on the head or talk about her while she’s present, so she puts up with it.

She starts wearing a modified vest and half-mask for missions after the third time an enemy-nin tries to abduct or kidnap her during a mission, when she figures out that they’re going after the girl, not the weakest person on the team. She’ll still be the youngest, but there’s not much she can do about that. And it turns out her teammates hesitate less around her when she wears the mask, too.

She’s tempted to wear it around the village, sometimes, but her father frowns when she does.

* * *

Kakashi celebrates her seventh birthday in the field, choking down ration bars and wishing they could light a fire. Her teammates congratulate her, and the new one almost drops his drink when he finds out she’s turning _seven_. She can’t see why: she’s never been especially tall for her age. Her father has sent her a new tanto, and the grip feels unfamiliar in her hand. She knows she will practice with it until it feels as effortlessly a part of her as the old one had, before she grew taller, her hands larger.

She itches to get back into the field: her role on this mission is to cripple as many Iwa-nin as she can. So far, she has poisoned a half dozen cookfires and stewpots and hamstrung two men who tried to chase her, before slitting their throats. She’s falling behind the quota she set for herself, and soon enough it will be winter, and the war will slow down: she will be sent back to Konoha to train and study and “have some kind of childhood” while adults stay on watch at the borders. Kakashi rolls up in a blanket and falls into sleep with the ease of practice and youth, waking for her watch before anyone comes to get her.

When she leaves camp in the morning, she leaves the old sword behind, stepping out into the autumn air determined to christen her new weapon and do her part for Konoha. She reaches her quota.

* * *

In the first weeks of winter, when she’s been sent back to Konoha, Kakashi is assigned a kunoichi tutor. It’s time she catches up with the other girls, the tutor says, and takes her to join the first-year pre-genin classes as they gather flowers or recite poetry or learn the precepts of a harmonious household. The girls in these classes are anywhere from her age to nearly three years younger than her, and Kakashi bristles at the implied insult.

“I don’t need to know this!” she protests, “This is useless!” Ami-sense clicks her tongue in disapproval. When Kakashi quickly memorizes the poems she’s been assigned, and sneaks out early to practice with her new tanto, Ami-sensei assigns her longer poems; when Kakashi finishes the stupid individual-flower-meaning quizzes, Ami-sensei assigns her more and more complicated arrangements. Kakashi is a smart girl - she’s certainly capable of memorizing long, classic love poetry, of learning to create flawless flower arrangements that convey complicated messages with a minimum of fuss. But she doesn’t want to. She is a tool for Konoha, and she chafes at the forced inactivity, the wasted time. The other girls mostly avoid her, awed or envious or scornful, though one of the youngest girls, distinctive only by the scar across the bridge of her nose, (certainly not for her performance in any of their subjects) makes shy conversation until a friend calls her away, whispering something in her ear that makes the girl look back at Kakashi with trepidation. _Good_ , Kakashi thinks at the two of them viciously, _keep your stupid kunoichi training_.

After two weeks of increasingly surly compliance, and one of epic arguments, Ami-sensei calls in reinforcements. Kakashi thinks this is probably because she’s gotten into a fistfight with Ami-sensei twice, and beaten her one of those times - the woman seems to forget that no matter how small Kakashi is, she’s still been a chuunin for a year now: she’s not _incompetent_.

“Now, Kakashi-chan,” Ami-sensei says, talking clearly and slowly as if to an idiot, “be polite to Tsunade-hime. It’s an honor that she’s taking the time to help you. And for god’s sake,” she adds, hissing under her breath, “use the proper pronouns. You’re not a boy.” Kakashi scowls. (The pre-genin girls had all gasped when Kakashi introduced herself, and Ami-sensei had given them all a lecture on the importance of self-presentation and putting your best foot forward, shooting pointed looks at Kakashi and the scarred girl, who looked like she was listening hard the whole time.)

Kakashi doesn’t respond. She has no plans to cozy up to Tsunade-san, or to call her “princess” just because of her grandfather: if she’s impressive enough in her own right, and not just as the medi-nin of the sannin, Kakashi will be surprised. It seems like all of the adult kunoichi she meets are soft, or have retired to have children.

Tsunade walks in, and Ami-sensei bows low. Kakashi inclines her head just enough, and waits. Tsunade crosses her arms, and looks Kakashi up and down. She doesn’t look soft.

“Huh.” She says, “you really do look like your father.” Kakashi reminds herself that shinobi do not show emotion, and stares back, dropping even the pretense of deference. “And you’ve got guts,” Tsunade adds, in an approving tone of voice. Kakashi allows herself the barest sliver of hope.

“So, Ami-sensei,” Tsunade says, turning to look at the teacher, who drops another quick bow in her direction, “why am I here, exactly?”

Kakashi takes a step closer and answers instead. “Because she wants me to learn ikebana and poetry, and I want to train.” Ami-sensei makes an offended face when she hears Kakashi’s statement, and she knows that as soon as Tsunade-san is gone, she’ll get another lecture on why girls can’t use “ore” or “boku” to refer to themselves.

Tsunade raises an eyebrow, and makes a ‘continue’ gesture, cutting off Ami-sensei in the same elegant motion. (Kakashi thinks that if she were taught that kind of thing, she might find these lessons useful. But that’s probably not taught for years and years, and she’s not sitting through years of this nonsense for anything.)

“Teaching me kunoichi skills like these is useless right now: it’s a waste of time for everyone involved.” Kakashi says baldly. “I’m not going to be going undercover as a civilian, and even if I were, it would be as a child, who shouldn’t know as much about these subjects as I already do.” Tsunade looks like she’s listening, and Ami-sensei looks scandalized, twitching every time Kakashi opens her mouth and refers to herself.

“Unless our enemies are pedophiles, I won’t be seducing anyone in the near future, so those lessons will be a waste of time, too.” Kakashi watches Ami-sensei turn red, and is (secretly) proud of herself for not blushing at all.

“In contrast, I’m useful now in the field. I’m good at reconnaissance: I can get in and out faster and with less suspicion than an adult shinobi. And when the opportunity presents, I’m good at killing people: few people fear a child, so they let me far too close.” Having said her piece, Kakashi stands ready, waiting for a response.

Tsunade laughs. Kakashi’s back stiffens, and Tsunade waves a hand in her direction.

“Oh, I like you, kid,” she says. “Ami-sensei,” the woman nods, and bows again, “you can return to your class. Kakashi and I will be fine.” Ami-sensei looks like she’d like to protest, but can’t quite make herself defy Tsunade. She bows again, and leaves.

“Now,” Tsunade says, dropping to sit cross-legged on the ground, and motioning for Kakashi to sit, “you’re going to have to learn some of this stuff - enough to say you’ve been trained. But you’re right: you’re not going to be sent out on an undercover mission that draws on those skills for some time yet.”

Kakashi watches her, wary, and remains standing.

“Sit down already, kid” Tsunade says. Kakashi kneels, toes flat on the ground just in case she needs to get up fast.

“All right. I’m going to see what you already know, and then we’ll set a timeline for you to learn other kunoichi skills that you won’t have a use for immediately. You do have to learn these things eventually. You’re going to be quite the charmer when you grow up, and you know what that means as well as I do.”

Kakashi makes a face, and Tsunade laughs.

“Best get used to it,” she advises, not unsympathetically, “it’s gonna be part of the job soon enough.” Kakashi thinks privately that if she never has to take one of those missions, it’ll be too soon, but she doesn’t say anything.

They work out a schedule for the winter months, and just before she leaves, Tsunade says “You know, Kakashi. I never much liked ikebana either.” Kakashi tentatively returns Tsunade’s smile, and starts to think that maybe this won’t be so dreadful after all.

* * *

In fact, that winter, the year Kakashi turns eight, is almost like a dream. She meets with Tsunade every couple of weeks, shows her what kunoichi lessons she’s learned, and gets to spend the bulk of her time doing the kinds of training she finds valuable.

The best part is that her father is able to spend time at home with her for an entire month, recovering from a serious injury, and is sent out only infrequently in the next three, winter storms and ice slowing the conflict to a near stand-still. Kakashi feels guilty for being glad he’s home: a true shinobi of Konoha would wish for his swift return to health and a faster end to the war.

Sakumo coaches her in ninjutsu, sword work, and military history, and they review the shinobi code and the Will of Fire. When she puzzles at the contradictions, he tells her it’s something everyone in Konoha has to make their own peace with, and that there’s no single answer. He praises her grasp of battlefield theory, and beats her at shogi time and again. The day she first beats him, he ruffles her hair affectionately and then sets the board up for another match. “Well?” he says, with a smile, “Come do it again, Kakashi.”

In the evenings, they curl up by a fire, and he tells her stories of missions he’s gone on, or the history of Konoha’s founding from the warring clans, or, once in a while, something about her mother, whom she does not remember except from stories like these. Once in a while, she lets herself fall asleep leaning against him, his voice steady, his arms around her strong and warm and safe. When she wakes on her futon in the morning, it is always with his hakama wrapped around her, the material gripped tight in her fists.

She loves her father desperately.

Then a mission goes wrong.

The man who comes back to their house after that isn’t really her father anymore: he looks the same, but he won’t teach her anything except defensive jutsu, and he looks at her sometimes with worry in his eyes, as if he thinks she can’t protect herself. Kakashi practices harder: if she just shows him that she’s strong enough, he can stop worrying about her, and maybe he’ll get better. But instead he starts asking her to take breaks, to sit next to him and watch the koi pond, unspeaking. When he first asks her to demonstrate some of the things she’s been learning with Tsunade, she almost cries: he’s never asked about those lessons before.

Still, she doesn’t hear the rumors or gossip for some time: she spends little enough time talking with anyone but her father and Tsunade, and if conversations stop when she walks by, she doesn’t much care. It isn’t until his reputation as the White Fang of Konoha has truly been destroyed that children start mocking her in the street, and by then, (she will realize, years later), it was already far too late.

* * *

Kakashi finds her father’s body in the early hours of the night. He lies curled on the floor, his body a crescent-moon around a dark puddle of blood, the moonlight bright enough that she cannot imagine the scene away. Even as she drops to her knees and pours chakra into him desperately, rehearsing all the medical jutsu she’s learned in the field, from Tsunade, combining them and improvising and improving, she knows it’s too late: that he’s gone; that he’s been gone for too long.

She sits with his body for some time. When she gets up, her hands are red-stained, and she wipes them futilely on her pants, not wanting to leave him alone for long enough to go wash them properly. She glances at the low table in the corner, on which they used to play shogi. There has been nothing on it for weeks except a mission plan with two choices: success, or safety. It is set up now as if to sacrifice two team members, and complete the mission. She knocks the pieces off roughly, and falls to her knees, resting her head on the cool enameled surface. Finally, she rises, cleans herself up, and sends a message to Tsunade, who will tell the Hokage.

That evening, she burns incense for him as well as her mother, and tries not to hate him for leaving her, for not even dying on a mission like a good shinobi. The death he chose is senseless, devoid of meaning or consolation.

Kakashi spends the night before her father’s funeral lying sleepless in an empty house, wondering whether she could have saved him if she’d learned more medical jutsu in her lessons, if she had been a good enough shinobi to have looked beneath the underneath and seen his intent, if she’d been old enough that he could have confided in her, if she’d been his son.

* * *

In the morning, she takes up his blade and leaves doubt behind: it will only make her weaker. She buries her memories of his laugh, of the roughness of his hands around hers, and writes the Shinobi Code across the empty spaces in her mind. It is simple and exacting and unbending, and she pulls a mask over her lower face and tries to lose herself entirely.

 


End file.
